A Golden Heart (Untarnished)
by Stella Marshal
Summary: There are many paths one many choose in life. Some lead to pain. But others lead to joy. AKA Five Husbands that would have made Cersei Lannister a Happy Woman and One were She made Herself happy.
1. Cersei Tully, Lady of Riverrun

**Based on a Prompt from the ASOIAF Kinkmeme: Five Husbands that Cersei Lannister would have been happy with and one were she never married and was happy anyway.  
**

**I do not own a Song of Ice and Fire. If I did, everyone would be a lot happier. And Slightly less dead.**

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It was all Ed's fault. Cersei hung out her bedroom window, wringing out the twin's clothing over the waters of the Red Fork. The light silk shifts were soaked through, silver threads lost in the rivers and stained with mud. They had been a gift from her Father for their fifth name day and now they were ruined. Cerlena and Dencen looked little better. They've been shivering non-stop since she had found them; flame red hair plastered to their foreheads, skin pale as marble. Her dunce of a Lord Husband had actually let them go swimming! Ed at least had the wherewithal to look sheepish. She rounded on the trio.

"I don't suppose you three have anything to say?" She demanded.

The three glanced at each other, waiting for someone to break the tense silence.

Dencen spoke up in a high whining pitch, "But Father promised he would teach us to swim on our fifth name day."

Cersei rounded on her first born son, green eyes blazing,

"And the fact that's its autumn and you could have frozen yourselves to Death doesn't matter." She countered.

"It wasn't that cold, Mommy." Cerlena piped up now, rushing to her twin's defense, "Papa said it was warm enough for a quick lesson."

"It was cold enough for you to freeze." She shouted at the quivering girl. Her voice lilted higher and higher until it was a raging squeal, "What were you thinking?! Do you want to have your little brother to have two dead siblings?!"

"Cersei," Ed spoke the warning in a low, gentle tone. She looked at him than the twins. Their green eyes were as big as dinner plates. They were terrified. Of her. She sighed gently and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to will her head to stop throbbing.

"You two," She pointed at the twins, "Go to Measter Hollen."

Ed's face bloomed into an expression of mock horror. "By the Seven, their tongues will fall from their mouths."

His light tone took the edge off his words.

Cersei glared at the flame haired lord then her shaking children. "Now."

They knew to run when their Mother used that tone. Cerlena jumped up and went racing down the halls, pulling Dencen by the hand.

Cersei called after the running pair. "And take everything he gives you."

Cersei turned to her Lord Husband. He watched her fierce scowl with wary eyes. There wasn't anything she could do. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him, then plopped down on their bed with a thud. Ed caught the pillow with ease. When she didn't throw anything else at him, he sat beside her and began to rub slow circles on her back. Six months into her second pregnancy and it was going little better than the first. A mother's tender stomach and aching muscles felt worse than ever. Her temper was soured as old cream.

She threw her blonde head back and moaned in relief as Ed's clever hands melted the heavy knots beneath her skin.

"You really are a trying man, you know that?"

Ed was so Good to her. He was Rhaegar or Jamie wasn't: plain, forgetful, weak. But he was so sweet. He truly care for her, not just her blood, gold or womb. He wanted her to happy. Just for that, she couldn't bring herself to hate him as much as she should have.

"And you are a terrifying woman," He murmured into her hair. "On our wedding night, you were scowling so fiercely I thought you would melt my armor."

She snorted, "Well you weren't exactly the Silver Prince my father had promised I'd have." She sifted so he could find a particularly stubborn kink. "Who gets married in chain mail?"

"It's a family tradition," Ed laughed, low and soft. "And you weren't the Lord Husband Lysa was promised."

Cersei grumbled at the memory. If she had known how badly her Father had wanted an alliance with the Tullys at the time, she never would have convinced Jamie to Take the White. And she won't be stuck with Ed. Who was moving his clever hands across her skin and pressing little kisses along her neck.

Ed continued with low words, "I don't suppose you've considered the fact that I dove bravely into frigid waters of the Trident to rescue your first born son."

"I might have," She admitted with a stern smile, "If you hadn't convinced him to get in the water at the first place."

"They looked at me," He laughed softly. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders "With those great pleading eyes of theirs."

She knew that look. It was the same one she had given Father many times during her childhood. It had never worked on him.

"It was too dangerous." she insisted.

"It would be more dangerous if they had sneaked out and tried to teach themselves to swim."

Cersei twisted, her belly smacking Ed in the knees. Her green eyes met bright blue ones, "They won't…"

"Oh yes they would." He interrupted, "I caught them planning it."

She stared at him in disbelief. Cerlena and Decen, do something so stupid.

"They're more like you than you think." He beamed and threw his hands out wide, "Bold. Willful."

Cersei remembered her own childhood: switching clothes with Jamie for weeks at a time, running off to hear her future from an old witch, convincing Jamie to give up Casterly Rock.

Bold. Willful.

His grin was cocked to one side, the way it always did when he was joking.

"That's a nice way of saying stubborn isn't?" She inquired.

His smile widened until it almost touched his ears. "You've been talking with Uncle Bryden haven't you?"

They were both laughing now. Gold and Red mingled as they touched foreheads gently.

Cersei whispered across Ed's lips. "You can't give them everything they want."

She thought of her life as a Queen, of the halls of Casterly Rock, and the sunshine of Jamie's hair.

Ed smiled again and pulled her lips to his. They locked together for a gentle moment, and then Ed pulled back and kissed her forehead.

"Isn't that why I have you?"

Giggling, Cersei pulled the redhead to lay by her side and settled in for an afternoon nap; Ed stroking her golden curls with a gentle hand.


	2. Cersei Stark, Lady of Winterfell

Brandon and Cersei reflect on their marriage

Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews.

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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The feast was, without a doubt, the greatest that the North had ever seen, although it was hardly out of the ordinary for a Lannister of Casterly Rock. The tables groaned under the weight of the richest dishes of the Seven Kingdoms: The finest fruits and vegetables of the Vale, jugs of Golden Arbor and Dornish Reds, Venison and beef roasted with garlic and hot pepper. Huge banners, fearsome packs of real silver direwolves racing across a field of snow-white silk, were draped the Great Hall. It was a once in a lifetime feast in the North. All this pageantry and beauty was for the twin Heirs of the Lord of Winterfell, Brandon and Arya Stark.

"Did you miss this?"

Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and her husband of two years, stared at smoke grey eyes meet her bright green. She remembered her years at Casterly Rock; where parties like this were a common occurrence and gowns were gauzy lace and Mirsh silk instead of thick grey and grey wool.

"I did," Cersei shrugged and admitted it without shame, "When I first came here."

A Wolf's Grin appeared on his face at the start of their old game, "You didn't want to marry the Lord Paramount of Snow and Wildlings."

Cersei grinned back at him. "Or be the Lady of Snow and Wildlings. Father wasn't happy you heard that."

She felt her gaze fall on her twin brother. Jamie was gently feeding Catelyn bits of fruit, a hand rubbing slow circles on her swollen belly. The brand new heir to Casterly Rock would arrive any day in the company of both his grandfathers and aunts.

Brandon followed her gaze, "And so the Loin trounced the Wolf, the Wolf will steal the Lioness."

It was already the stuff of songs. This wasn't what she expected when she told Jamie about Tywin's marriage plans. She wanted him to take the White, not duel Brandon Stark for the prize of House Tully.

"I didn't think it could be any worse when you showed up at Casterly Rock as my betrothed." She continued the old game of theirs.

Father hadn't told her who her groom would be until moments before her wedding. Jamie had injured and humiliated the heir to a lord paramount and stolen his betrothed. There was only one way to pay for that. She could remember the trip to Winterfell and miserable home she found there. The first months of their marriage was marked with furious arguments and icy silences. Cersei had wanted the life she was accustomed to at Casterly Rock: gold and rubies, Dornish wine and silk dresses. Every member of the castle expected her to act the Northern Lady, especially Brandon. That meant running a household, sewing her own clothes, and even working in the kitchens with the servants. It was beneath a Daughter of the Rock and she had told Brandon as much. Neither would give even the smallest inch. It had been six moon turns before she even allowed him into her rooms, much less her bed.

"And when did you decide I was worth putting up with?" His eyes twinkled. He knew this story.

She smiled back, "When I talked Lyanna out of that stupid decision hers."

As if summoned by her words, Lyanna flew past, laughing as Robert Baratheon tossed her into the air like a doll. At the Tournament at Harrenhal, Cersei had prayed to the Seven that Rhaegar would spirit her away from the North. But it was Lyanna who caught his eye. She had talked young lady out of becoming his mistress. In true, it was out of jealousy. She didn't want so Northern Wildling Wolf-bitch stealing her crown. But Brandon had thought it sisterly affection and had given her the first taste of the true North. A simple silver necklace from White Harbor; tiny stands as thin as a thread woven into a never-ending knot. It entranced the eye and was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. In contrast her dowry jewelry was gaudy and overdone.

From then Brandon had made an effort to show her the true North. The breathtaking beauty of the Wall and the Wolf's Wood. Bannermen who did not scheme but truly loved the house that ruled them. Winter Roses wrapped around the glass gardens of Winterfell. It was nothing like the stories of harsh lands and half-Wildling men she had been told all her life. A new set of guests arrived. Eddard Arryn, newly raised Lord of the Vale, came to his childhood home for the first time in years. He looked more dower and plain next to his beautiful wife and child. It had amazed everyone that Ned Stark, the Quiet Wolf and second son to the meanest region of the realm, had managed to woo Ashara Dayne of all people. The Dornish Noblewoman was famed as one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms. Their son, Jon, had inherited the classic Stark coloring but wore it better on his mother's graceful features.

"Brandon," He called in greeting, his dower face lighting with joy.

The older man embraced his little brother. Brandon laced his hand through hers and pulled her into the enormous embrace. Little Jon Arryn cooed at her and reached his chubby toddler arms out for a hug. She pulled the purple eyed beauty and her child into the embrace. Ceresi felt something, a bubble rising in her chest. It was a feeling she had almost forgotten. Casterly Rock was filled with gold and rubies, silks and exotic spices. But Winterfell was full of something else. Here was family, friends, and love. There was nothing of the sort in the cold halls she called home for years. Not since the days of her childhood when a golden lady she barely remembered sang her and Jamie to sleep and her father smiled at the trio. This was a better home than she could ever ask for.


	3. Cersei Tyrell, Lady of Highgarden

Forgive me if this chapter is a little trite. It seemed okay when I was writing it.

GRRM owns game of thrones and is trying to drown Westeros in Blood of my favorite characters.

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There was never a greater sight. Twenty years to the Day of Rheagar's defeat of the rebellious Storm Lord Robert Baratheon and on the Eve of the New Century, The House of Targaryen, Lannister, and Tyrell were joined by blood. On the Altar of the Gods in the Sept of Balor the Blessed, Crown Prince Aegon Targaryen Sixth of his Name gave his name, his loyalty and his love to Margaery Tyrell, The Crimson Rose of Highgarden and Sister to heirs of The Reach and The Rock, Willas Tyrell and Tygent Lannister. Dragon, Lion and Rose would be united in their Victory.

It was as if the Gods had come to the Westeros. Everywhere Cersei looked she saw hair that flowed in silken rainbows, sparkling eyes in every color and shade, skin that glowed with inner fire. King Rhaegar stood above all. He had only grown more beautiful in the years since Harrenhal. His hair hung long and shone like burnished silver. Age had given the barest touch to his eyes; even from a distance, he radiated wisdom and strength like a sun. Time had stood still for the Sister Queens. Elia had always been a classic Dorish beauty and Lyanna had fully grown into her wild grace. Ageon was a Godling, palest gold and silver in his hair and smoking Amethyst for eyes. And Margaery could the Maid herself with her porcelain pale skin, Golden-Brown curls and eyes that shimmered gold.

Tullys, Baratheons, Martells, Arryns, Greyjoy and Starks had all sent their Queenly girls and Proud Strong men. All except House Lannister. No Lions of the Rock were here to dance with golden hair and glittering emerald eyes. Cersei shivered as she remembered Jamie's fate. Even the Victory of her Father and Husband could not save him from the King's Justice. As for her…

"And there is my Lady."

The jovial call startled her from fitful memories. Her Lord Mace had returned from the feasting tables. A gaggle of servant stood behind him, burdened of succulent dishes and rich wines. They lay out the feast at the table reserved just for the Lady of Highgarden.

Mace came forward and hugged her eagerly. A few of the older servants stared at her. They had seen her on her wedding day, remembered the fresh faced maid she had been. Her lord glared at the stragglers, who set down their dishes and left with due haste.

The Lord of Highgarden glared at their retreating backs. "I hate it when they look at you like that."

"It's almost like I've become hideous." She said blankly.

"If any other person had said that, I'd have his head."

She stared at the ceiling of the room lost in the memories of her youth. "I **am **hideous."

Mace turned hard brown eyes on her. "You are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

The touch on her hair was enough to silence her protest.

"You're beautiful because when I look at you and see all the things I love most in the world."

He ran fingers through dull, thinning locks. "You always brush this hair a half a hundred times before bed every night. Every night. I counted for year, and it was exactly half a hundred each time."

His hand roamed across her body, touching at her garish red cheeks. "I love these cheeks. Always so ready to soak up the Summer sun."

He touched each flaw of her body in turn, giving a reason he loved it: Wrinkles that showed the times she smiled, arms that rocked their sons to sleep, the scar across her hand where she rescued Garlan from a burning pan, thin lips he loved to kiss.

"And the womb," His hand came to rest on her amble belly, "that gave the world Five Strong and Brilliant Sons and a Queen for all the realm."

She stared at him. His brown eyes poured into her green, and in that moment, Cersei, with her bloated body and disfigured face, felt more beautiful than the stars.


	4. Cersei Martell, Princess of Dorne

Hey guys, thanks for everything. Your reviews, favorites and follows are greatly appreciated. FYI, the next few chapters are going to be slightly angstier than the past three because Oberyn, Rhagher and Cersei are very heavy characters. So if you're expecting solely WAFFs and Fluff, you should probably look else where. Also I have no Beta, so mistakes ahoy.

Just FYI, I have a completely alternate chapter featuring Cersei Martell and Elia Lannister. Be very very good and I might post it at the end.

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Cersei stared at the door to her apartments. It had been a little over a year since her wedding and she still loathed going back to her rooms. The first time she entered unexpectedly… A shudder ran through her. The memory was seared into her mind, came to her late at night and made her mind boil with disgust. There was no noise coming from the other side. She still hated to risk her peace of mind for news so small. But if were her to received it. Almost against her will, her hand extended and knocked.

"Come in." Oberyn called in his thickly accented voice. So many years in the Free Cities had left their mark.

It was not as bad as she expected. Barely. Oberyn sat at his Cyvasse Board with Ellaria Sand, his baseborn Mistress, sitting across from him. As much as she hated to admit it, Ellaria had grown more beautiful during her pregnancy. Her cheeks glowed like fine bronze and her eyes were bright and clear. The younger Prince was captivated by his whore and his game; he didn't even glance at Cersei as she entered their rooms.

His hand ran over his face, rubbing his eyes. "I always win against you."

"And you're upset about this." the bastard woman teased, hand resting on her enormous belly. Her white teeth flashed like seed pearls.

"When you let me win?" He returned the smile with a joke of his own, "Yes, I am."

Cersei cleared her throat loudly. The prince's eyes drew together in a heavy frown. Ellaria ran a hand over his own, trying to sooth him. It was disgusting to see such an intimate gesture coming from her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, angry seeping into his voice.

"The babe is fine." She answered dully, "You don't have to pretend you can for me as well."

"I care for all the women who bare my children." Oberyn's lips curled up in a pleased smile as he surveyed the two women's swollen stomachs. "Now if that's what did you want to talk to me about."

Cersei didn't leave glared at Ellaria, waiting for her to leave. She would not speak of this before her. Her husband was quick to notice her fiery scowl and motioned for the bastard to leave. Not before tangling their fingers in gentle affection.

As Ellaria left, the prince turned to her, eyes dark and heavy with exasperation. "What is so important that it cannot be discussed in front of family?"

"Elia arrived in Sunspear today. She and Jamie..." Anger glued her words in her throat. A year's worth of shame and fury burst through the walls she had built around them. She gestured at the door the woman had left through. "That Woman is not your family."

Oberyn raised an eyebrow, "She has already bore me two daughters. Why is she less family than you?"

"I am your wife."

"Cersei," he began but her wounded pride demanded to be heard.

"Why do you do this to me?! Treat me worse than that woman." Her voice came out high and tight, shrieking. "You parade your whores and your bastards in King's Landing and Sunspear. You brought them to our wedding, By the Gods. What are people going about our family?

Do you know what they said about me? And the children I'll give you? Our Sons will be depraved and our Daughters Whores!"

Breathe came in great panting gasps when she was done. Oberyn sat quietly through her tirade. When she did not speak again, he poured her a glass of water. It was clean and ice cold on her tongue; she felt the fire of her rage bank a little.

"Cersei," the young prince began again, "you must have known about me before we were married."

"I heard rumors." She glanced around the rooms, not meeting Oberyn's eyes. "I didn't…" she trailed off, not willing to continue.

"Didn't think they could possibly be true." He finished for her, voice tired and slightly amused. "Or perhaps that if when I meet you, I would be so taken with your beauty and wit that I would cast Ellaria and my daughters out for you and your trueborn children."

Cersei didn't have to answer him. He had already proved he could read her as easily as a book. Oberyn sat back in his chair, considering his wife.

"I don't pretend to be a good man, my dear. I do what I want for the reasons I want to do them."

"And what of what I want?" she asked.

"What do you want?" the prince asked before draining his glass.

His question gave her pause. Oberyn's eyes were level and his mouth set. He truly wanted to know what she wanted. No one had considered that; only what she must do. The words came before she could stop them; her lie not even convincing to herself.

"To join our houses and give you sons."

"It is a funny thing when you Northerners do." He filled a glass with wine for himself. "Open your mouths and have your parents come out."

Cersei ignored the comparison to the Starks and their gaggle of bizarre lords.

"I want to love." This time it was smoother. Silver and Gold flashed in her mind, a roaring lion and snarling dragon. "To find a husband who cares about me more than the world."

He considered this answer for a moment. She could see him turning the words over in his mind.

"Not entirely true." He took a long draft of the liqueur. "But closer."

Her scowl returned full force. If she could have willed him to burst into flames, he would have already been aflame. He met her gaze without hesitation, eyes a deep, smoldering black. They drew her in and swallowed her soul. Her will crumbled under their scrutiny. Truth came in a whisper soft as fallen petals.

"Everything you have."

For a moment she imagined: exploring the Free Cities with her own company of stalwart fellows, traveling all the way to Asshai and the Shadow Lands, ascending the highest steps of the Citadel and having Kings and Princes sit in awe of her knowledge and skill, to choose between dozens of beautiful young men begging for a taste of her. She wanted the choice of a thousand thousand paths.

He steepled his hands and rested his chin on them, "You resent being a woman."

"Since I was a child." She moved away from her husband. The window was open; Cersei relished the warm breeze blowing from the desert. It helped to blow the bitterness from her mind. "Jamie and I used to switch clothing and I would learn what he did. There was so much I couldn't see and do."

"And you did not tell your parents about this?"

"You try telling the Great Tywin Lannister you want to be something other than what he wants. Even Mother couldn't sway him from that." Her voice deepened into a terrible imitation of her father.

"She'll be a high lady one day and a lady's duty is bare sons and entertain her court. No man wants a lady wife who will upstage him at every turn."

Oberyn snorted into his cup, "Funny, considering he's been married to Lady Joanna for twenty years and got five children on her."

When she didn't answer, he put down his cup and joined her at the window. "I never wanted this either, Cersei. Our mothers should have known this. I cannot give up who I am. No wife deserves this misery and no children with a true name should have to answer for my actions."

"I know." There was no changing either of them. Cersei was a woman, wedded, bedded and with child. And Oberyn had been acting on his desires since childhood. To change their situation now would mean giving up so much of themselves. The unfairness of the situation burned in Cersei's blood.

"I'm trying to love you." She whispered, "Even after you brought Ellaria to our wedding."

"I know." His eyes were a softer black now, sadder. They were mesmerizing, one moment dragonglass, another black silk. They were one of the things about him that made her heart leap despite herself. "I can promise you this. Whatever path our children choose, it will be the one they want."

Cersei stared at him for a moment. His gaze was filled with pain. He was giving her all he could. One tiny corner of her heart melted.

A heavy sigh passed her lips. "Perhaps you could be a tad more discreet. And keep you conquest out of our beds." She patted her stomach, "He and I have to sleep on them for the next six months."

"I can do that."

They stood side-by-side for moment. Then she remembered what she came here for.

"Elia and Jamie have arrived in Sunspear." She told her husband. "They want to show off their son."

Oberyn nodded. "Well, let's clean up and go meet the Little Lion."

Hesitating, he extended his hand to her and after only a moment, she took it. Hand in hand, the Prince and Princess of Dorne left to greet their siblings.


	5. Cersei Targaryen, Queen of the Realm

This chapter might rate a little higher due to a few nasty curses; the four letter kind, not the spell kind. Just to warn yea.

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Cersei watched her twin sons sleep. Aegon rested his head on Tygent, chubby toddler arms wrapped around him; always protecting his younger, smaller brother. They were a matched set with deep purple eyes and the palest gold hair. The words returned to her, a thin, squeaking rasp that chilled her to the bone.  
Gold shall be their crowns and Gold shall be their shrouds.

She stifled a shriek as an arm snaked around her waist. Rhaegar frowned at her, concerned.

"Are you all right, My Queen?"

Her voice cracked as she answered. "Yes, My King."

It was a lie. She could still feel the phantom clutch of icy fingers on her throat. He probably heard her pounding heart from the other side of the doorway. He didn't comment, only rested his chin on her head. His hands rubbing slow circles around her waist. She knew what he wanted. It was all he talked about for the last few months. She disentangled herself from her arms. Panic rose as Rhaegar stared at her, lilac eyes full of worry and hurt. She tore her gaze from him, frightened her will would crumble when tested.

"We have two sons." She plead with him, "Why do we need a third?"

"It doesn't have to be a son." He stared at her, pain etched between his eyes.

"I won't have my daughter fucking her brother." Purple eyes went wide at her whispered vulgarity. She didn't want to hear whatever honeyed words he would use to convince her.

"Goodnight, My king." With a quick bow, she left the nursery.

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She should have expected Father to find out about her refusal to bare Rhaegar another child. So here she sat in the Tower of the Hand waiting for him to address his Queen and daughter. The pen's scratching grated on her raw nerves.

"The king has been making what he thinks are discrete inquiries into the laws surrounding taking a second queen." He stated without preamble.

Shame, terror and relief twisted into a storm in her mind as she heard this. Another woman in Rhaeger's bed, giving him the child he craved. A younger, more beautiful queen.

Her voice was surprising level as she answered. "So?"

"So," Tywin continued, "You are queen. I will not have another cheapen that."

"No, you paid a lot for Jamie's freedom and my crown: Gold, lives, Kingslaying."

Father had not even flinched at the accusation.

Why not? It was true.

Instead, he silently demanded an answer from his only daughter. She could tell him the truth or enough of it.

"There's too much of a risk."

The lie was spun with surprising ease. House Targaryen held its words in high regard. Blood and fire followed them through the centuries.

"I think of more children and I think of Aerion the Monstrous and The Mad King, the Blackfyre Rebellion and the Dance of Dragons."

"That is the past. When Tagaryens wed Brother and Sister," Tywin dismissed. "Your blood has cooled the madness in Tygent and Aegon and it will create a strong and worthy prince again."

"Aryes' mother was of House Velaryon." She shot back, quick as lightning. "The Blackfyres had fresh blood in all of them and they were mad as men could be. What would you say to your true and noble grandsons being murdered by a mad one?"

Tywin remained unconvinced. "Our blood is not that common dirt. We are Lions of the Rock."

It was her turn to be unconvinced. Tywin saw his orders and grandiose boast had no effect. His voice softened slightly, becoming warm marble instead of cold stone.

"Even if that is true and your next son is as mad as his Grandfather, Rhaegar would never allow harm to come to his sons or to you. He loves you as much as I love your Lady Mother."

Anger rose with bile as an image resurfaced in her mind's eye: A woman, a painted whore, moaning as her father mounted her like a horse; the very bed her mother dead in squeaked and rattled with the force of their fucking. Cersei's next words squeezed out of her throat in the barest whisper.

"You didn't love her."

The crack rang through the room. Her father's hand left a stain, garish as blood on parchment. He closed what little space was between them.

"**You will do your duty**."

The words were calm and absolute. The threat between them was clear as a Wyldfire at midnight.

* * *

This pregnancy had sacred her senseless. Night after night, she would wake with visions of golden hair stained crimson with blood and sightless purple eyes. A faceless woman crowned and laughing cruelly, her arms around Rhaegar; The King's face passionless as Tyrion's small hands wrapped around her throat. The first gasp of birth pains almost stopped heart. Every breath after that was agony. Every push brought her world closer to destruction.

"A Princess." Called Grand Maester Pycelle, then a startle yelp escaped the old man. Cersei was beyond caring what deformity the girl was cursed with. Darkness circled her world. She slipped into the oblivion, thankful for even a brief release from the despair that would follow.

Her king was the first thing she saw when her respite had ended. His silver head stood in stark contrast to the red roof of the castle. The infant princess was in his arms. A queen to rule and died before Cersei's eyes. Rhaegar settled the doomed child into her arms. In spite of herself, she could feel her heart warm to this child. Whether in five years or fifty, Cersei would see this beautiful golden girl grow and love and breathe her last.

Rheagar can back to her side, another small bundle in his arms. He sat on the bed and moved closer to her. Cersei stared at the blanket, not truly seeing what he held.

"Another set of twins." The young king marveled. He held the smaller of the two girls, a tiny pearl of a girl. "Have you ever heard of this?"

She couldn't speak.

"Cersei?"

"Twins." She awed at last. Four children.

"I only wanted one." The King admitted. "I read a prophecy: A dragon must have three heads."

The queen could not take her eyes off her infant daughters but she understood. "There's a wife for Aegon and Tygent."

Confusion spread across her lord's face. "I thought you didn't want to continue the tradition?"

"You have your prophecy, Your Grace," Cersei admitted "and I had mine."

For the first time in years, she spoke the words that haunted her aloud and felt their weight melt from her shoulders.

"I wanted to know if we would wed. There was a woman near Lannisport; They said she could read the future."

She took a breath, pain lancing through her chest. "You shall not wed a prince but a King and give him three. Gold shall be their Crowns and Gold shall be their Shrouds."

Rhaegar's eyes widened. "If we had only one…"

"Then they all would have lived and died before my eyes." She finished.

"My love,…"

She stopped his word with a light kiss on his fingers, "It doesn't matter."

They sat together for a while. Cersei stared at her two daughters, marveling at the most perfect princesses to ever grace the realm. Rhaegar was thinking as he usually did.

"You know what this means?" Rhaegar asked. His voice was grave but his lavender eyes smiled when she caught their gaze.

"Were going to have another two?" She asked playfully.

He nodded solemnly, humor playing at his mouth, "A dragon must have three heads, and it would seem the Gods have decreed that there must be two dragons."

Cersei laughed and held her oldest daughter close. Maggy's shadow was gone from her life. Her family would always be safe.


	6. Cersei Lannister, Lady of Casterly Rock

This is the final chapter. Cersei as she always wanted to be.

* * *

Cersei stared at the sea of faces before her. This was the day she had prepared for. The one she had dreaded and hoped for in equal measure. The Lions of Lannister, Ser Jamie and Lord Tywin, lay in the bowels of Casterly Rock. Father and Son lay side by side with a son and brother who never saw this world. She could barely breathe for the tension in her spine. Before her was the Great Hall of Casterly Rock, crimson silk and golden thread hanging everywhere. A thousand thousand faces swan before her; they whorled in a twisted confusion of color, reshaping themselves into a different day.

It was a bright and clear winter day when she demanded to be treated like her brother. Jamie had been training for six months and Ceresi had been fascinated. She watched him with the other boys, padded until he was a perfect ball. It took her all of a day to sneak away from her sewing mistress and demand the Master-of-Arms give her a sword. He had brought her to her Lord Father and Lady Mother.

"Why do you want a sword?" Father had asked in the quiet, gentle voice heard only with her and Jamie.

"Because I am the Heir of Casterly Rock." She stated with the surety only a kid can have, "I can't just sit around and sew all day. I need to know how to fight in case someone tries to kill me and steal our gold."

Father looked dumbstruck. Mother was still gaunt and pale after yesterday. The baby had come early, too small and deformed to live more than an hour.

"I'm your eldest child." She had continued, so sure she knew all the mysteries of the world. "Obyren says the eldest always inherits first."

"Ceresi," Father had this look on his face. He knew what he said next would incite a flood of tears. Without Mother, he would have. It only took her a few whispered words, but Father's face almost smiled as he regarded his lady wife.

"Well, I can't argue with that. You can train with the boys, if you want to."

At the time, she thought what Mother had snatched words of wisdom straight from The Gods. Cersei didn't learn for years that Mother only asked him to humor her girlish fancies. But it was enough to give her a chance.

From that day forward, Cersei had trained with her brother. She learned to win a sword fight, to shoot a bow, and keep a horse calm in battle. She was too skinny for a broad sword, so Father brought a Water Dancer from Bravos to teach her. At first, they were easy on her, but as she mastered her lessons they pushed her more and more. They were daring her to give up, like she was an ordinary girl. She poured every ounce of her energies into her training. Every night, she lay in bed bruised and aching, too exhausted to move. But every morning she got up at the first light of dawn. She was a Lioness, like her Lady Mother.

These sheep would not best her.

Father regarded her with surprise as she told him of her triumphs and failures. She could never beat Jamie in a sword fight but she had yet to be unseated in a joust. Soon she was invited to all of Jamie's lessons: learning figures, history and laws. More important were the ones Father taught, sitting either side of him at his councils.

"Tell me, if one of your banners refused to pay their taxes, what would you do?"

"How would we defend Lannisport from the Ironborn?"

"How should we divide the latest rations?"

These questions were harder than anything. Seeing in shades of grey was simply not in her nature. People were either with her or against her. Tywin had to drive those lessons into her hard. Just because you could not trust someone doesn't mean you don't need them. The trick was to take what you needed from them while never giving away more than you have to.

At nineteen she was still a maid, bound to her Father's house. Many a man had asked for her hand. A lady of Casterly Rock was a fine match, even if she was spirited and fierce. She had not wanted to make a match, even a prince or a king, if it meant she was expected to sit in a corner, a doll only good for looking beautiful and bearing sons. One announcement to the Royal Court was enough: Defeat her in the joust at Lanisport and her hand would theirs. Many a sellsword and lowly lord had jumped at the chance to claim Blood with the Lions of the Rock. As she trotted over the last of her battered suitors, Cersei placed the Crown of Love and Beauty on her Mother's pale brow. Tywin Lannister, a man as grim as the Stranger, had actually doubled over in silent laughter.

None of them had laughed for long afterwards.

It was such a slow thing. The Maesters say Jamie hadn't even felt the gentle pull of the Stranger. A broken rib was such a small thing, too small to die from. Father had raged and threatened to have them all culled. It was no use though. Tywin Lannister could kill the entire Citadel; he could give up all the gold of Casterly Rock or his own life, but nothing would return Jamie to life. Tywin, the man who rule the Seven Kingdoms for forty years, could not go on. The golden sword of his only son pierced his heart but it was the hammer of a hedge knight that killed the Lord of Casterly Rock.

The Heavy weight of a cloak on her shoulders returned her to the present. Her Uncle Kevin wrapped the crimson and gold cloak around her shoulders and placed a Golden lioness on her brow. The Bannermen of the Westerlands, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, smallfolk from across the lands, they all stood silent as Cersei spoke the ancient Oaths of her House.

She turned cold green eyes on her Lady Mother and Ser Uncles as the High Septon sang his pray and wafted the sweet incense around her golden head. As the three of them sank to their knees, Lords and smallfolk followed suit. The banners dipped as Lords great and small bent the knee to her: Clegane, Crackhall, Spicer, Payne, Plumm, and Westerland. They were her armies to command, her sons to protect and raise. Her Brothers were dead. Her Father had chased his sons to the Seven Heavens. Cersei Lannister had no time for her grief. She would never give up her name and give no man dominion over her, but instead stand tall, wrapped in Gold and Crimson. She would govern with honey, gold, and steel. She was The Lady of Casterly Rock, and the World would Hear Her Roar.


End file.
